In Shining Armor
by Business of Misery
Summary: "I was never yours. That doesn't mean that I never loved you or that I ever stopped." Even in their childhood, Nessa of Alfheim had always known Loki Odinson was her knight in shining armor. With Asgard on the brink of war with Muspelheim, Loki must fight for and alongside his brother and the princess who gave him the Light. "You have my word, I will protect you." Loki/OC pre-Thor.


_We're burning down the highway skyline_  
_On the back of a hurricane that started turning_  
_When you were young_

* * *

She was but a child when she learned that someday, she would marry a prince. There was nothing in all nine realms that could have made the small girl light up any brighter than she did the day Father Frey pulled her to the side and told her the stories of another world that would become her home: golden palaces that could not be rivaled even by King Midas of Midgard, a tale that had been woven into her imagination at the bedside since her birth. There were glorious fountains of water more pure than the priestesses of her homeland, Alfheim, could conjure, and the planets could be seen from the vast expanse of the cities. Statues stood tall over the Asgardians, with kindness etched forever in their godlike skins.

She listened to the tales, as she sat on the knee of the king of Alfheim, her father, a wonderful man with long dark hair and wisdom in the creases of his skin, of the great rainbow bridge that stretched across the sky to a gate called Bifrost. Her eyes were sparkling with delight as he sat her on the ground and she took off through the meadows, her bare feet skimming but barely feeling the untainted soil as she ran, carefully avoiding the flowers that sprouted there. She would collapse on her back on the grass, visions of a beautiful prince dancing in her mind. He would have a glorious smile and was a regular Knight in Shining Armour, just like all the fairy tales. He would be charming and ride a white horse and have a cape that flowed gently behind him as they rode into the sunset. Already being a princess was something she had never considered- the women of Alfheim never ascended the throne, and it never mattered much to her anyway.

And so she would pretend, alone to her own devices in the gardens of the castle she called home, surrounded by a wall that towered over her frail body and even over her father's head, each stone serving a protective purpose of concealing her from prying eyes. The garden was rather large by standards of the rest of the kingdom, a wide mile in each direction from the single tree in the center. The small princess picked the flowers that grew at its base, weaving them with tiny fingers into a beautiful crown of purples, yellows and whites. Light poured over her face, crown on her head as she ran through the knee-high grass. Her laughter filled the garden as she chased along the wall, dragging the tiny palms on the surface. She imagined a prince chasing her, playing tag or weaving her a crown and placing it on his head so they would match.

The whole thing was rather romantic, she supposed. Never in her mind did doubt take its root to bury in her mind. It had never occurred that the prince might be a beast of whom she despised. Princes were kind of heart, charming and filled with love. They were strong and brave, never cruel and rash. So innocently she played in the gardens, humming lullabies under the passing skyline.

She had been told all her life that this was to be her fate- a handsome prince that would someday be King of Asgard, and her the enchanting Queen to sit by his side and feed him grapes. She would be first to admit that the grape bit was made up, but she liked to envision herself being useful, catering to a man who would present her with beautiful gems, an army of horses in each color, and a gentle voice that would sing her to sleep each night. She was but a child, her head filled with fantasies. Later in life, she would learn. Life, and royalty, was not about the trusty steed or the gems.

* * *

When the time had come- and not soon enough in the mind of the innocent elfin girl- she had been restless for ages, much to the annoyance of her personal caretaker, Mother Superior Elisa. Elisa fussed over the princess when her dress become scuffed after a play in the meadows or climbing trees, insisting the small girl avoid such activities so close to her departure into another world.

"Nessa, you silly child." Elissa's voice was soft, tender, and motherly. She pulled a fine toothed comb through the knots of the princess's honey colored hair, flakes of grass and leaves falling unceremoniously to the floor below as her fingers worked the hair into a braid. "You really must hold still or I'll pull your hair right out."

"Sorry, Mum." Nessa sighed, smoothing her hands over the pale blue dress Elisa had picked out for her. She caught sight of the older woman in the mirror across from them, taking in the bits of dust on her apron and the kindness in her sore knuckles. She had worked hard for all of Nessa's life, having to take over the part of mother with the death of the queen that Nessa had never actually met. There was a certain guilt in the heart of the tiny girl, but she would never let it rise to the sparkling eyes and taint her happiness. Elisa put the brush down, running her hand gently over her work and smiling at her precious girl. Nessa turned, rising to her feet with her chin held high as she spun in front of the mirror, watching the bottom of her dress dance with the slight breeze. It was a simple attire, but she thought it was rather beautiful and wondered for a moment if the prince had eyes the color of the carefully stitched hem.

"Do you think the king will let me ride his horse?" Nessa inquired, walking beside the woman as she was led through the shining silver halls of Alfheim's palace. Elisa could feel the excitement radiate from the small girl as she bounced in front of the maid, slowed down as so she could catch up and then repeated the action all down the hall. Elisa smiled as Nessa waited in front of the large, theatrical doors that led to the world outside the castle. The doors opened as Elisa stepped up to them and the guards pulled on the doors, light spilling around them as they stepped outside. Nessa did not hear Elisa tell her to be patient as she gave the beautiful scene a quick glance, not fully appreciating the valleys and groves that shot off into forever or the giant birds that flew overhead.

Elisa shook her head as she followed the small princess down the steps to the grand chariot that waited for them. Two white horses pulled it, the driver starting them forward as soon as the door had closed behind them. Frey was already waiting inside, grinning at his daughter as she pressed her face to the glass, watching the streets as they began their departure. Elisa tugged on the small girl's dress and she sat, legs swinging back and forth as they trudged forward.

"You're much too excited, Sister Mine." A voice laughed from beside King Frey, slick and smooth. The young man sat with his back straight and a smirk licking his lips. The sparkle in his eye matched Nessa's and she joined his laughter. His hair was smooth, caught somewhere in between the darkness of his father's and the honey color of the princess's.

"Brother Mine, have you met the prince?" Nessa sat on the edge of her seat. The prince's brows rose, but before he could answer, the King cleared his throat and stole his daughter's attention.

"Zavier has not been to the realm of Asgard." Frey tilted his chin at his daughter, who listened with eagerness, hoping for another one of his woven stories. "Listen to me, my little princess, and do so kindly and with an open heart and mind..."

"Yes, Father." He did not continue for a long moment as Nessa relaxed in her place, legs wiggling. She placed her hands into her lap and did her best to appear as best an adult as she could. When he was satisfied with her attention, the king heaved a breath and leaned forward.

"In the great land of Asgard, the All-Father has two sons, but only one of them will claim the crown and become king. Whoever it is that will do so, that is who you shall marry." Frey spoke slowly, reading his daughter's eyes to know for sure that she understood. She did not do so much as blink as he spoke. "They are but children now, just as you are. We are going to-day as a visit to the King and his family, but we will return when the light passes over the horizon, and we will do this but twice each year one these two longest days. The time will come, however, when you, Nessa-" he reached out, his hand engulfing the side of her small face, thumb on her cheek. "will not return home with us to Alfheim. The All-Father has agreed that in due time, you will take a permanent place in his palace. You shall do so with pride and the knowledge that we- Mother Superior, your brother and myself- will always hold you in our hearts."

Nessa nodded, not really understanding the words of the king. It did not seem too far away, as she watched the world pass by the window in silence, from one land to another. But she was young, and it would be many years before she realized how dearly she missed her family when they had left her to the devices of a king in another realm. Frey watched his daughter silently as she began to drift off in her place, a kind, sad smile on his lips. It was for the best of both kingdoms, he knew it in his heart. He would miss her, but she would be happy in Asgard. With this knowledge, he put his mind at ease as the light outside the carriage beamed, the skies at their brightest.

"Father," Zavier looked to his father as their transportation began to slow down at the gates that would open up to the portal to Bifrost, arranged by Odin and the gatekeeper, Heimdall. "Will she be happy- in Asgard?"

The King of the Light Elves did not turn his eye away from the sleeping child across from him, returning his son's question with a slight nod as Elisa reached over, her hand on Nessa's back as she began to stir. "We have many years before we must say our goodbyes. Let us not dwell on them in sadness. She will not be gone forever, regardless." With that, the door swung open and the prince followed his father out of the carriage.

Nessa's eyes fluttered open and Elisa helped her out as the princess began to wake. She took the girl's hand as she blinked at the gate. A swirl of color erupted behind her shining irises and she was wide awake, the excitement returning to her thundering heart. She clung to the hand of her caretaker and her eyes closed tightly. After a moment, the sensation was gone and she opened her eyes, finding herself standing in a round, golden room. Her hand let go of Elisa's as she surveyed the walls.

"King Frey of Alfheim," an unfamiliar voice echoed through the small room and Nessa jumped, not realizing her family was not alone. Her eyes rest on a dark skinned man, dressed in golden armour with a matching staff in hand. His eyes were glazed the same color of liquid amber and he bowed slightly at Frey, who smiled at the guardian.

"Heimdall, Gatekeeper." Frey took the man's hand as though they were old friends. Nessa looked at the man with curiosity, a smile creeping across her face. She passed Elisa and Zavier, stepping up to the towering golden man.

"Hello!" She greeted innocently. Heimdall knelt to one knee so that he was eye level with the small girl and bowed his head, a small smile on his lips.

"Good day, Princess of Alfheim." He looked back up at her just as another figure waded into the room. Nessa looked past Heimdall at the large, grey bearded man. She noticed the patch on his eye almost immediately and opened her mouth, but the look on her brother's face caused her jaw to snap shut as the two larger men greeted one another.

"Nessa, come forth." Her father gestured for her to come forward and she did as such, curtsying at the strange man. "Daughter Mine, this is the All-Father, Odin, King of Asgard."

"H-hello, sir- All-Father, Odin, King of Asgard." Nessa repeated her father's words, nerves suddenly clashing down on her shoulders. Odin let out a chuckle at the small girl.

"How very sweet, Frey. Your daughter is quite a beautiful child." Odin complemented, gesturing toward the opening of the Bifrost. "Shall we ride to the castle? I feel it is more appropriate for guests, and Frigga is dying to meet you..." He continued to speak, his eyes meeting Nessa as he turned away from her. The two kings exchanged laughter and conversation as they ascended onto horses, old friendship between them being rekindled. Zavier shared one of the beasts with his sister, who looked at the large creatures with a sparkle in her eye. They were much bigger in Asgard, with shinier coats and lustrous manes. She waved farewell to Elisa, who remained behind with the Gatekeeper. The horses galloped over the bridge of rainbow, Nessa's mouth agape and laughter escaping her lungs as her fairy tale visions began to come true.

The palace was massive, towering through the sky like a beacon as they neared it. Nessa had not stopped taking in the sight of the new world around her, breathing new air that tasted like honey instead of cherry blossoms, though it was not unpleasant. The sky was arranged with bright oranges and reds, casting a glorious shadow over the golden walls. Nessa felt rather small as she was helped off the horse, into her brother's arms before her small feet met the cold floor below. Gardens surrounded them, bright greens with bushels of flowering red plants that caught her curiosity. Zavier squeezed her hand, earning her bright gaze. He reflected down at her and gave a stiff nod as they followed the kings through the doors that opened as if by magic. This did little to awe the elf princess, but nonetheless she smiled as she followed down the great, godly halls to the dining area.

* * *

The feast, as it were, had passed rather quickly. Nessa had been eager, eying things that were familiar and things that were new, willingly trying anything and everything that was offered to her. She didn't pay much attention to the adults as they spoke, their conversation a flood around her. Her brother on her left and father to her right spoke to the other grown ups around the table. Odin shared laughter with them and his wife, Frigga, a beautiful woman, smiled kindly and gave her two-cents every few moments. Nessa watched her with wide eyes, wondering if her mother was anything like that. She knew very little of the dead Queen, aside from what the moving portraits in her father's parlor had depicted of the elfin woman. She was a lot like Frigga, Nessa had decided. They both had kind smiles with etches of wisdom in the corners of their mouths. Frigga's hair was softer than silk- even without touching it Nessa should feel the sheen, but Nessa knew her mother's was much lighter in color, almost white if it were in the sun. Sometimes, she talked to the paintings at her home. The portrait could only smile back at her, but Nessa liked to pretend the paint could hear her when she was lonely or sad.

The rest of the table, long and doning at least two dozen others who were royals or members of Odin's court, echoed the loudness of the two kings, the clanking of the cups and voices of laughter and joy spilled through the hall, bouncing off of the towering walls. If she paid much attention, Nessa might have been overwhelmed. Being only 250 years old, she knew she was rather young. She briefly wondered how old King Odin was, but it was a fleeting curiosity as she felt an elbow in her shoulder. She looked, her eyes finding the matching ones beside her.

"Have you spoken to them yet, Sister Mine?" Zavier blinked down at her, a twitching smile at his lips as he sipped from the goblet in his hand. Nessa's brows furrowed and she followed his weary glance down the length of the table. She saw them there, sitting side by side. They were opposite ends of the same spectrum. The one she saw first was leaning forward, laughter on his lips. Blonde hair framed his face, a stray wisp licking the corner of his eye. They were bright eyes, a vibrant blue to be seen even through his squinting laughter. He was speaking to a group around him, seemingly entrancing all of them to him. A red tunic complemented him nicely with silver accents down the arms, shining in the light of the marvelous chandelier above them.

She saw his brother next. The younger boy, with hair the color of a crow's feathers and a slim face, a cup touching his lips without really drinking. He was watching his brother and the group he spoke to, rather than participate. He was even dressed oppositely in greens and gold. His eyes were just as stunning, but there was a curiosity in them that Nessa understood instantly. Unlike his brother's eyes, which were the color of her father's peacocks, this boy had dark eyes the color of a ghostly sea.

"Who's whom?" Nessa turned to look at Zavier, who tilted his chin. She turned to look at the boys as he talked, soaking in their sight.

"The blonde one is Thor, Odin's eldest. Quite loud, that one. He will most certainly be a great warrior." Zavier put his glass down and reached forward for a piece of fruit from the center of the table. _A knight in shining armor._ Nessa's heart jumped and a smile spread across her jaw. "The younger is Loki. Much more shy, him. Smarter, if you ask me."

"Which one will be king?" Nessa's innocent question made Zavier smile back at her. One brow rose and he chewed the fruit slowly, the sounds of the room overflowing the conversation of the siblings.

"Could go either way, Nessie. We won't know for many years. They are but boys, hard to tell what kind of men they will become." He answered. Nessa merely nodded, watching the two boys. Thor sat back in his chairs as he spoke, pointing at one of his friends with laughter etched on his face. Nessa nearly jumped as her eyes drifted over toward Loki, who was now looking back at her. It was a stare, lacking in anger or terror, but there was something else there that sent a shiver up Nessa's spine and she smiled back at him, offering a gentle wave of her fingertips. He did not wave back, but his expression reflected boredom and his eyes tore away from her and he was once again watching his brother's friends. She frowned, looking down at her plate and waiting out the rest of the diner in silence. It took her many years after that moment to realize the look in his eye was pure, uncensored, unadulterated loneliness.

* * *

"Nessa? A strange name. It sounds like a dragon." The child snorted, nose wrinkling as he walked along the veranda. The she-elf crossed her arms over the torso of her pale blue dress, one brow raising. He couldn't help but grin as she tried her best to look annoyed. The glass panels reflected the light over the faces of the three children, casting long shadows along the golden walls opposite them.

"We truly are from different worlds, sir. It means 'pure.' There is nothing beastly about it." Nessa informed him, leaning against the wall. Light sparkled on her eyes as she looked at the proud child. "Thor is a strange name, I think."

At her words, the young god laughed rather loudly. It was bellowing, shooting up his throat heartily. Nessa's smile twitched and she began to laugh, too. Loki watched them with shadows under his eyes, but he didn't say a word as his brother interacted with the Princess from another world. He didn't say much to the girl or Thor at all, preferring to do as he always had when there were others: observe.

It was one thing when his brother was alone. They played, as all children did. They rode on their father's horses in the valleys surrounding the immediate city, practiced their fighting (which, as expected, Thor excelled at and Loki did not) and magic (Loki's true area of expertise.) However it was when his brother's friends, and now, this girl, were around that his brother was morphed into something else, choosing instead to partake in activities that often disclosed the younger brother. Loki frowned as the girl snorted at one of Thor's jokes. They were already taking a liking to one another, which was enough to say that there was another person of which he could be resentful. _Utterly useless._

"Loki," He cringed, not enjoying the sour taste it held on her tongue. It was not how she spoke, but rather that she had bothered to use it at all. He thought of correcting her, saying that he was a prince and her lack of acknowledgement was rude, but he realized as his mouth opened to speak that she was royalty as well, and well within her right to address him by first name. He didn't like this, but his vibrant green eyes found her face as she strode next to Thor a short distance away. "What of you?"

"Sorry?" His brows rose as he realized they were in the midst of conversation and she was attempting to include him. It was odd, to be considered. It wasn't as though Thor never talked to him or that he didn't have friends, but it felt strange that she would address him specifically. He didn't like how her lips curled when she smiled at him knowingly or how she allowed tendrils of hair to fall over her cheeks as they loosened from her long, blonde braid.

"Thor's told me his desires to be a warrior. What about you? Surely you have desires, too." She had slowed down now to walk beside him, stalling Thor too. He was eager to bounce ahead of them, he knew, but his brother attempted to slow down for the benefit of their guest. He almost wanted to puke as he saw them standing next to each other. It was beyond obvious that she would be his. There was very little desire in Loki's heart to conquest or rein as King of Asgard, and he told her so. She looked almost disappointed beyond her plastered smile. Loki was sure he knew a spell, somewhere mixed in all the lessons his mother had been teaching him, that could wipe the pitying grin from her face. He pushed it to the back of his mind for now and gave her the cold shoulder. Her grin faltered the slightest as she turned to talk to Thor once again and he slowed his pace even more, if just to put distance between himself and his brother and the foolish little girl that, he held no doubt in his mind, surely would someday be Thor's queen.

* * *

The sky above Asgard had begun to darken as the Light Elves remained in Asgard. Nessa had spent a majority of her visit with the young Thor and Loki, the latter of which remained relatively quiet, speaking only in between bursts of Thor showing off and to answer Nessa's ridiculous questions. Loki snarled at the complete idiot of a child when she inquired about the size of their horses and the color of their sky. It had never occurred to him, until that moment as he looked over at the small girl, that her world was so entirely different than his own. Sure, her ears were pointed and she was a tiny creature, but that aside she did not appear any different than the other Asgardian children. Loki pressed his lips together as the three of them walked along the rainbow bridge just feet behind the adults, their smaller strides not quite keeping up with the two kings and the older prince of another land.

He was silent as the bearded men shared friendly farewells, as his father took the hand of the auburn haired Prince of Alfheim. Thor and Nessa embraced as though they were well into friendship despite having just met that very day. Finally, her vibrant eyes found Loki and he stiffened as she closed the space between them.

"Farewell, Loki Odinson." She grinned, her fingers fidgeting with the end of her dress. She was unsure of what to do with herself, as it seemed odd to show sentiment toward the colder attitude of the younger prince. Loki gave her a stiff nod, and, as an afterthought, took her hand properly. He placed a kiss on the top of her palm, weary of his father's watchful eye. She smiled at him before withdrawing the hand back to her, turning on her heel and bouncing after her father and brother as they awaited her. Thor came to stand beside him with a wide grin, throwing one arm around his brother's shoulder as brilliant lights began to spark through the air around them as Heimdall opened the Bifrost to let them pass. Soon, the three elves were swallowed by a rainbow hue, their particles flying through the air as they returned to their home.

Thor was talking to Odin now, though Loki was lost to his own world, staring at the spot where they had been standing only moments before. His lips pressed into a fine line and he shrunk away from his brother, putting his back to them and the gatekeeper.

Heimdall watched the young prince retreat, adjusting the collar of his tunic that the blonde boy had disrupted. A flash of green glittered in the golden eyes of the seer and his lips twitched at their corners. Loki, it would seem, did not care much for the Princess of Alfheim- of that Heimdall was certain. Even as the boy stepped out into the open air beyond the golden globe, growing smaller and smaller with each step- heaven forbid, as he was already so small- the gatekeeper watched him. He kept his lips tight, knowing better than to disrupt fate by telling of her secrets.

As soon as Loki was no longer within his sights, Heimdall put his back to the king and older prince as Odin began to lead Thor away. He paid no mind to their calls of farewell, chin tilted as he looked out at the great body of stars before him. There, in the distance, beyond a cluster of stars that would appear insignificant to anyone who did not know where to look, Heimdall could see the tiny princess as she slept, curled into her brother's side as he smoothed her hair as they traveled through the gates of their kingdom inside a carriage. She had pleasant dreams, he knew: of rainbow bridges, crystal skies and golden palaces, horses towering thrice her size, and eyes the color of jade crystals.


End file.
